


A Garden's Tale

by Amongthedeep



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Fantasy, Gen, Original Fiction, Psychological Horror, Short Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-22
Updated: 2014-05-22
Packaged: 2018-08-15 08:20:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8049109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amongthedeep/pseuds/Amongthedeep
Summary: Mart just moved to Algraid, a coastal island that sounds like paradise, but there's just something that isn't right. Being pregnant is hard when the world slowly stops making sense.





	A Garden's Tale

**Author's Note:**

> Finished on 22-5-2014, made to relax about flowers and gardening, it spiraled out into this.

[](http://tinypic.com?ref=25ppceo)

"No matter what," echoed, "you can't run away."  
Mart woke up, feeling shaky and nauseated. She hadn't expected to dream, it seldom happened to her, much less such bizarre things. Mart wasn't sure what it was she dreamed, it all felt very misty – almost like someone had put a white cellophane between her eyes and her memories. She shrugged. It didn't matter either way, that's what she told the chill traveling down her goosebumped arms. So she dressed, ate her honey porridge, put her mitts and went into her garden. Since the past 6 months, she had been tending to it. Slowly, but surely, it had become greener, healthier – a joy to be in it, work with it. The baby bump had made it tougher, but she'd been compelled by the sorry, muddy state of the beautyberries; the twisted ungainly bay's; so Mart had taken the weeds out, cleaned the dirt, put fertilizer and dug to plant new things. She'd found a hobby, and something she loved doing. She had never expect that, either.  
Seldom things had brought her happiness when she had lived in the mainland, especially after Hoult had deserted her and the belly bump.  
"I can't," he said, freaking out and almost breaking down the table between them. "I can't raise a child, it's all your fault!"  
And he'd stormed off, never to be seen. Good riddance, too. Mart hadn't cried, she understood in a sense, that Hoult would have never been a good father. He'd never even been that good of a lover, yet she had stayed unnaturally, and strangely, with him all those years.  
"I was a fool," she said, to the bluebeards, "to have stayed 5 years of my life with a man like that, don't you think so bluelove?"  
She petted the bluebeard, and turned to the butterfly bush. She smelled it's fruity scent eagerly, and pruned it to make it even more fountain-like in shape. This one had been a hard fight, it still was ongoing, specially with the weather acting up, but it was flourishing. She thumbed the white and yellow flowers, inspecting their shape and quality. She'd tried fertilizing it before, it had been a disaster. Luckily, her next-door neighbor was a florist, with such big shrubs and flowers and plants, even vegetables!, planted on it that it was impossible to see anything inside the house. Heck, it was impossible to tell it was not just a place taken out from paradise and planted right there and then.  
She felt quite jealous of it, of the ability to bring forth such growth, but Aila and Josey were the sweetest people. She'd arrived eager and optimistic to her new place, only to become dispirited over the sad, unkempt state of the house and grounds. Mart knew she couldn't and shouldn't complain, it had been cheap and that had been the goal. But it still had depressed her. So when a couple hours of washing the mucked floor, there was a knock, she had opened it cross.  
"What is it that you want?" she had shouted, and stopped when she saw the basket full of flowers and fruits. Smelling delicious and kind, a sweet offering of peace. Of comfort. She'd been so touched, she cried right then and apologized for her outburst.  
"No worry," Aila had said, a bright smile on her beautiful features. "It's really us that didn't consider you, specially after this place being abandoned for so long."  
And next thing Mart knew, they'd offered to enter and to clean and wash with her, and they'd done so. Right there and then. They'd put the basket on the floor, for there was no furniture inside, and done her such a good favor, she'd cried again in thanks.  
***  
"Mart, yoohoo!" Aila said, waving at her. She had one of her baskets full to the top. "I brought your daily prize."  
They both laughed, hugging each other quite awkwardly because of Mart's bump and the basket on the crook of Aila's arm. "You don't need to keep bringing it," Mart pointed out. "I'm fine now."  
Aila thundered inside her house, and put the basket on the cherry table Josey had brought such months ago. "Nonsense, we give so many away, why not you, our friend? Forget about it," she said, and came down the steps to inspect the bluebeard. She nodded at it, her blue eyes content. "The lot #50 has been rented, did you know?"  
Mart shook her head, even after all these months she didn't really know much of the neighbors. They were all friendly, sure, but it stopped at that. "No, I haven't. Who is it?"  
Aila inspected the white crape myrtles and frowned. "These need more sun, really," she sighed. " We don't know, William hasn't said a thing, and you know how he runs his mouth away with any news."  
Mart pushed down the bushes around the crape myrtles and tried to inspect if the sun was enough like that. Aila flicked deutzia shrubs away. "Then... ask him?" Mart sat down in the floor, feeling out of breath. Or maybe it was the heat, it was still morning, yet she was sweating so much.  
"Are you quite alright?" Aila said, and crouched in order not to soil her V neck white dress. "Want help to go back inside?"  
"No, no," Mart insisted, starting to feel cross. She wasn't an invalid. "I'm okay, continue, I just need a break for some breath and water."  
"I wouldn't know," Aila said looking sad as Mart rubbed her bump, "since I can't have any. But either way, yes, I've asked him alright, he refuses to say anything at all. It's maddening!"  
***  
After a bit, of listening to Aila's recount of intruding into Williams house and trying to wring answers out of him, Mart got up and went to check the white deutzia that Aila had disapproved. She couldn't see anything wrong with them, Spring had been too strange for them to bloom, but their green stalks were healthy, as was their large white flowers. Mart puzzled over it, maybe some fertilizer? But she couldn't ask Aila, she'd bought a book. In the past months, she'd asked her everyday until Aila had made quite a sour as milk face, and barred her.  
"If you must so ask me questions, why not at least try to find the answers before asking me?" she had questioned, quite rhetorical, and frowned until her black eyebrows were all the way down her eyes. "At least, do it with something important, or unknown. Your questions are all so very basic!"  
If either because she was pregnant, or because her pride had been crushed, she'd cried in her bed and vowed to not ask anything anymore. Less they tire of her, and then she'd be alone.  
She climbed up the steps, Aila staring at Mart shoving her fat legs up them, and entered to leaf through her new book. It had been a bargain, and it was all about plants and gardening. It said that it needed pruning if it was shaggy and leggy. They weren't a lot, but perhaps Aila hadn't agreed even with a bit.  
She'd pruned it last year, before flowering, but the book said to do so after the flowering. So while it was true it was still blossoming, Mart cut the tiny branches that were getting a bit everywhere, until they looked neat, at least to her eyes. It was with happiness and delight, she noticed the pink and white colorful dogwood opening up a bit. Spring was still going, but the dogwood had not blossomed when it should. It was good, then, that it was opening now. After blossoming, the tree would fill with beautiful red fruits while its blossoms would disappear. It was beautiful both in Spring as in Winter.  
***  
With a sore back, and a profuse headache, she returned inside to eat lunch and take a relaxing bath.  
There was a scream, that woke her up from inside the bath. She ran towards it, feeling the world tilt and almost crashed into a wall. It was almost like swimming against the waves of the sea, pulling at you in the opposite direction. As the door opened, quite sideways, she saw Aila on the floor. There was a poppy coming out of her heart, or was it just blood? No, perhaps it was paint, certainly it was paint.  
Mart crashed into the floor, and heaved, feeling the omelets and milk churning inside her stomach coming through her throat and splash yellow everywhere. The world slanted even more, Mart cried more.  
And then, she awoke. The water was cold. She tittered away from it and sobbed into her bathrobe, feeling small.  
What the heck is happening to me?, she thought quite miserably.  
It wasn't until she drank a long cup of tea, peed it out and sat in front of the TV, that she could breathe normal again. So she finally dialed Aila.  
"Ayup?" Aila's voice came through, high and cheerful.  
"Ah...It's me," she said, feeling foolish. "Have you gotten any answers yet?"  
Aila sighed. "No, and it's driving me crazy!"  
"It's driving me crazy too, but for other reasons!" came Josey's shout.  
"Never mind him," Aila snapped. "He wouldn't understand the need to know just who we are sharing our streets with!"  
Dread filled Mart. "But why? Did something happen?"  
"Oh...Of course not, silly, course not." Aila said, after a couple seconds. "It happened way back in the past. Just gotta make sure."  
"Where? When?"  
"Ah..." Aila exhaled. "Forget it, I gotta go. Ta, ta, see you tomorrow, okay, hun?"  
"Wait!" Mart shouted, yet the beep was all that stood left.  
***  
At least, I can stop worrying about that strange dream, Mart thought. Yet, she discovered, that she couldn't after all. Aila's words swam and swam inside her head, as she almost fell asleep in the pink couch she'd picked up at a bargain heap, until she felt she was this close to sleep. Yet it never came.  
Exhausted, she prepared the white paint and the maroon she had bought. Mart had whitewashed the walls already, in the beginning of her stay. But now, she needed a bit of color, of brightness in her life. She was starting to become depressed again, maybe it was the dread of the kid. She was so close to birthing it, and then what would happen? Only the Gods knew. She took the bubblegum pink, candy yellow and mixed them into another container, until it looked a poppy orange. Straining with the effort, she opened the windows of the house and even though it was still dawn and every single house was dark and asleep, she started painting. Bubblegum for the living room, it was directly in front of the house and caught a good deal of the sun, so it would look good. Candy yellow on the bathroom, it almost looked like the sun was really there. Almost.  
The poppy orange was for the bedroom, at least two walls of it, the other two walls were bubblegum, since that had so much left. Bubblegum for the entrance, candy yellow for the hallway near the backdoor.  
By the end of it, it was morning and Mart felt exhausted, but also freed.  
It was about 8 o'clock, when the telephone rang, as she was about to fall asleep comfy wrapped in her fake leopard blanket. She groaned and picked it up.  
"Who is it?" she snapped.  
"Ah, no need for that attitude, young lady!" Lady Ebony said, which made Mart recoil.  
"Madam!" she screamed, and covered her mouth to make sure no strange noises came out.  
"Listen, will you come to my shop today at noon?"  
"But, aren't you closed?" Mart asked helplessly.  
"Never mind that, will you or will you not?" Lady Ebony snapped.  
"Yes," Mart agreed dispirited, "I will come."  
"Good, now don't forget it, and see you."  
***  
Lady Ebony was the witch of Algraid, even the mainland officers and governors, would come to her to get scribed and to see their futures. She terrified Mart more than anything. There were rumors, Aila had told her, that Lady Ebony looked so dreadfully pale and white and young because she murdered babies at the full moon. She was supposed to be 60, yet she looked no more than 20. Mart shivered, incapable of saying no, stroking her belly bump with love. Aila had told her, only once had she been pregnant and she crossed Lady Ebony, and since then, never more. That had angered Mart so much, she had wanted to go storm inside that wicked Lady's shop and tell her ear off. But Aila had disagreed.  
"She'll make yours dead, and then what will happen to you?" Aila had said.  
So Mart said nothing, and did nothing, and grew afraid far more than humanly possible each time the name Ebony entered any conversations, even if not with her.  
***  
She was picking blueberries from the bushes, trying to prune them as she went because they were growing so wildly and cannibalizing the other plants, when Aila appeared with her basket. So Mart told her about the Lady Ebony.  
"You must go," Aila said angry. "No matter what, you can't cross her."  
"Oh, I know, but what if she does anything dreadful to me or my child?"  
"That's a possibility right now if you go, it'll become a certainty if you don't go," Aila took the prune out of her hands and eyed the blueberries. "You should only prune them in Winter, after they're dormant, yet look at the state of these bushes!"  
Mart blushed. "I-I know, but last year I couldn't, they weren't grown enough." She filled the little basket in the floor, taking out all the blueberries finally from the bush, and sat. "And I will go, I'm too terrified otherwise. Oh, why can't you come?"  
Aila grew pallid, her blue eyes like flames. "Never! I shall never come close to that creature anymore!" She cut so many pods, the bushes at top where the only ones grown. "There, much better, but really why couldn't you have at least tidied them last year? It doesn't matter the size, they still need to be cut in the bottom in order to go at the top and catch sunlight. That's basic."  
"I-I'm sorry," Mart stammered, feeling foolish. "I'll remember it."  
"You better, I'm not going to repeat it," Aila said and dropped the basket in front of Mart. "I need to go back now, ta-ta!"  
So Mart drenched in sweat, panting like a bull, carried the two heavy baskets up the stairs, to the table and almost collapsed. She started shivering, trembling from the cold, though there was plenty sunlight warming the house. Feeling like she was passing out, she held to the table, trying to think happy thoughts until it passed. How bizarre, she thought, this has never happened to me before.  
After a shower and a warm mug of chamomile tea, she walked out towards the main shopping area. All the houses, before the shopping area started, were like hers. Little white square houses, with brick red tiles, and greenery at their doors. It was peaceful, she could smell Miss Ashworth peaches, they smelled ripe and sweet, and she found herself longing to eat one, just one. She stopped in front of the tree, and almost, almost, reached out and took the one right in front of her eyes. But her cellphone rang, the alarm put to notify her when it was 30 minutes to midday. So Mart ripped herself apart from the enticing peach and continued walking, always with the peach in her mind, while crossing the tailors; the barbers; the electrician; the hairdresser; the supermarket, that was neither super nor really a market because it was small and full of the towns peoples vegetables; the electronics shop, that only had a few utensils, as she had soberly seen; the gardening shop; the florist, full to the brim with so many flowers, you could barely see the person behind the counter; and so many more, until, right at the end of the shopping market, there stood the one and only strangely dark, chilly place.  
Lady Ebony's Eye, it was called, and while it was white it felt like no sunlight reached it; its tinted windows so very dark; the door an old oak creaky thing; and as you opened that door, you'd get a face full of tresses full of beady white and brown things, that reminded Mart of too much of skulls to feel comfortable. And there, in that white, shining overwaxed table, was Lady Ebony's silky figure, with her spider-like fingers tracing the patterns of the cloth, while the other beckoned you to sit down.  
Mart could have screamed. So she sat down, and refused to look in that woman's white eyes. People would feel enticed to say they wanted Lady Ebony's pale blue eyes; her silky platinum hair; her not-a-wrinkle smooth oval face; her grace when walking or better, she always looked like she glided. Terrified, that was all this woman's appearance made Mart, completely and utterly terrified. Like she was in front of a beast, a foul beast, that was preparing its sharp claws to devour her.  
"Martilia, how nice to see you," Lady Ebony cooed. "I had to bring you here, I've seen strange things surrounding you. Lots of anger, and jealousy."  
"Whatever do you mean, Lady?" Mart inquired, not caring for that woman to even think of her. "There is nothing to envy me for. I'm pregnant and deserted by the man that fathered it; my garden is not as beautiful, or as well-taken care of as the other neighbors. I'm too poor to afford a better house, or even furniture. What's there to envy me, Lady?"  
Lady Ebony laugh was like glass ringing. "Child, there is always something people want, or envy, that they don't have." She looked at Mart's belly. "And people like to see other people down. Oh yes, you should feel miserable and such a poor little thing to be in your situation. Yet you don't, do you, Martilia?"  
Mart shook her head. "No, I've never felt miserable. I've felt relief and contentment, yes, but otherwise, no. Yet, I don't see the correlations, Lady, for anything."  
Lady Ebony's sigh was like a little gust of wind, perfume-y wind mixed with incense. "I've called you, because I've divined for this town, because of the new neighbor on lot #50, and you're in the middle of it all."  
"W-what?" Mart said, and drew nearer. "Tell me, what did you see?"  
She shook her soft, billowing platinum hair. "I cannot tell you that, but I saw red, and red is never as good as people make it out to be. And I saw that anger, and envy, it's tied to you so much. Have you thought of moving?"  
"No!" Mart shouted, almost a cry. "I cannot, it's cheap and I'm finally feeling good. Aila and Josey are such good friends, and my garden is becoming steadily better. And I'm almost giving birth!"  
"Such good friends you have," Lady Ebony smirked full of teeth. "The fact you're almost giving birth should give you incentive to leave this place for a few months, discharge and come back if you so desire. Shit is about to start, and I pity because you'll be in middle of the shitstorm. What if you lose the child, what then, young Martilia?"  
Mart got stunned into silence. Never before had Lady Ebony's rosy lips pronounced even so much as a bad word, yet here she was. She looked to her child, stroking it, her eyes prickling. "But, I can't, did you see wrong? I have nowhere else to go, please, Lady."  
But Lady Ebony said no more, only showed her the hanged-man card and told her to leave, both her place and the town.  
***  
Mart was miserable. Never before had she so pointedly told to leave, or die. It almost felt like that type of warning.  
But to where, she told the bump, when I've spent all the money I had saved to buy this house?  
So, it was with a heavy heart she did not tell Aila anything, even though she was so insistent, and came to visit twice in the same day for the very first time.  
"Oh, confound you all!" Aila raged. "Both you and William are insufferable pricks, telling nothing, absolutely nothing, when it most matters!"  
Mart let her rage, perhaps here was the anger that Lady had seen, but it stroke her as funny. Aila's anger was that of someone denied gossip, not of someone with the intent to kill. She smiled as Aila raged, and sat down to fume over being denied. Few people denied her, that had always been clear. Yet it didn't feel right, to tell her of something so personal. She was also scared, what if Aila spread it and they decided to force her out? That was the one thing that Mart couldn't let happen. So she waited out until Aila got bored and tired, leaving with her head held high and a throw of hair.  
Good riddance too, she thought, she was driving me crazy as it was.  
It was with surprise, and delight mixed with a groan-like feeling, that Josey appeared at her door next. He waxed her table, because it had been flaky; mended one of the crooked foot of the sofa; freed one of the windows, that had been stuck semi-open when she had opened them to paint; soldered, out of nowhere, her aluminum counter where it had been cut or broken, she wasn't entirely sure. Mart stared at it all, incapable of saying anything, when he was making such a ruckus she could barely think. Much less make her voice grow over it. She sighed, and propped back to the sofa. There went her peace and quiet, if they thought they could hammer out answers from her just because of a headache.  
When Josey finally tired, his breath and his olive complexion looking slightly reddish, he sat beside Mart and just stared.  
"Oh, for the love of the Gods!" Mart cried out. "Just stop it, I'm not saying, I'm not, so be gone!"  
"Mart, please, she drives me crazy, you gotta do me this favor, please!" he begged, almost on his knees.  
She sighed, shaking her head. "Nope. I don't. I know you did a lot for me, I really do, but just this one thing I can't, okay? Please, just leave, I'm so tired."  
So he left, anger in his face as he slammed her door close. She could even hear his kicks against the ground. There went her purple duranta, if she was imagining the place. Sighing again, Mart went to her bedroom. She seldom slept there, she couldn't quite understand it, but it spooked her. Perhaps not spooked, it wasn't exactly the right word. It made her uneasy, so she slept everywhere else. But after such a tiring day, and night, she had to succumb to the calling of just stretching and sleeping like a rock.  
Which she did.  
***  
It was with a heavy feeling in her gut, that Mart woke up. Almost like something was pressing down on her stomach. She groaned and turned, and stopped cold. Mart screamed, tears down her eyes and face as she saw the hands, strangely illuminated by the moon's light, pressing and destroying her stomach. She screamed for it to stop, she tried to kick, yet it's black fathomless eyes stared at her until something dislodged from deep inside, and then there was red. Red down her legs, her stomach decreasing, the pain flaring up her spine.  
"No, No, NOOO!" Mart sobbed, looking at the dead baby full of blood and liquids. "Oh, Gods, Oh Gods! Why? Why?!"  
And then she was awake, panting and checking her stomach, the bed. The sunlight hit her swollen crying face, and Mart ran away from the bed, and hid inside a cupboard, trying to fight her growing panic. She rocked beside the sink’s pipework, fighting to free herself from the feeling. Mart could barely stand, she'd even peed her bed, now that she could smell herself.  
It was with mammoth strength that she left the cupboard, took a quick shower and sat outside on the front steps of the house. She wasn't entirely sure she would ever, ever, attempt to sleep in that bed again. In fact, she was positive. Not even if I'm damned into Hell, she thought staring at the trampled durant's, I won't ever sleep there again.  
When Aila appeared, a couple hours later, with her basket, Mart pretended everything was fine and nothing had happened.  
"Won't you really tell me?" Aila drawled, sulking like a child.  
Mart snapped. "No, I won't. Just shut up or I won't talk to you anymore, get it?"  
Aila stared with her innocent wounded blue eyes. "Fine, then I guess you don't need my basket, or my help either. We're done!"  
And Aila left, curls bouncing, while Mart rose and with her bare hands ripped and tore the damaged durant's, put it on a flimsy basket and brought it to Josey's house and threw it at their doors. Let them think whatever they want!, she raged.  
With her still dirty hands, she dug the earth, pulling at the blueberries. "They're bitter, either way! Nothing I do is good enough, they're all poisonous!" and while cutting her hands, she ripped it all out and stomped on it. Then put all the bluebeards, with their spindly legs, inside a jar.  
That jar, she took to Lady Ebony. She almost slammed it into the door, feeling like a petulant child. But there was the Lady, opening her door with a sweet smile that was chilly.  
"Now, now, Martilia child, do behave yourself, " and with a firm hand, took the jar and brought them inside. "They're quite a lovely shade of deep blue, aren't they?"  
Mart shrugged. "Who knows? They're dreadful, nothing in my garden is good enough, is it? Not when compared to Aila's!"  
Lady Ebony laughed, filling the room with such delight the windows raked. "When people get scared, they get defensive. It's natural, Martilia, care for a cup of tea and honey toast?"  
Mart shrugged again.  
"Suit yourself, then."  
She ate it too, Mart so very outraged, she didn't have time to feel scared. Heck, they could come at her all they wanted, she'd fight them. She felt like that, so she continued on.  
"Will you tell me?" the Lady asked, while pouring two cups full of lemon balm tea. It drafted, scenting the strange air.  
She sighed. "Very well," and Mart told her all she could remember, all she had felt.  
Lady Ebony started trembling, her cup rattling far more than Mart's steady one.  
"I see, sigh, I do see," Lady said, and pinched her nose bridge. "I mean, really see, Mart."  
She stared at the pale Lady. "You mean, as I told you, you really...saw it?"  
The Lady nodded. "Yes, that is one of my many gifts."  
"Then what should I do?" Mart begged. "You must know, surely, you must know!"  
As she sipped her scalding tea, the Lady nodded. "I will give you a charm, but it is quite useless, I'm afraid. So don't enter the bedroom, anymore. I think they're specially strong there."  
"They?" Mart questioned. "Who're they?"  
"None of your business, Martilia, I cannot tell you even if I do want to," the Lady sighed. "You'll have to discover it by yourself, I am forbidden."  
Mart scoffed. "Forbidden? When you've told me so much already?"  
"Exactly, child, I warned you. That is all that's in my power," the Lady shook her fair hair. "But did you heed me? I fear it's too late. I can see the boy is already inside lot #50. Now, none can leave."  
"But," Mart started, and burst into tears, "my child. At least my child, promise me, everything will go well. Promise me, I trust you, fool as I am, scared as you make me. Promise me."  
Lady Ebony stared, and stared, and so quick and passing was the slight nod, that Mart couldn't know for sure. Yet she was thrown outside, with a little rainbow colored bangle on her right wrist, and went home.  
***  
"I wonder what I should name you?" Mart said, as she cooked porridge. She'd taken a fancy to honey porridge lately, and could not stop making it. It quite soothed and comforted her. "I don't even know if you're a boy or a girl, now do I? But a pretty name. Janelle? Kaero? Laer? Hanmi? So many names, so many memories," she sighed.  
They had all been friends, or better, her boyfriends friends. She'd loved them as family, and they had not betrayed her either. It was with sorrow and a heavy heart she had left them, and the mainland, to come to picturesque Algraid. She sighed again. Mart was starting to regret it far more than she ever expected. But what was done, was done, and nothing could change it expect a time machine. Oh, would that have been wonderful. She'd go to the past and...do what? Break up with her father's kid? No, the child always felt right, like they were meant to be. Then what? Stayed in mainland, when she didn't have any means to stay when her job had been so low pay? She sighed, yet again, and sat with the pot in front of her. Eating it straight from the pot had become her new addiction. Like that, she didn't have to wash never-ending dishes. Just one pot and a spoon or a fork. It was heaven, specially when Hoult would spend all their money on a big feast, and she had to clean afterward. Both the dirty, littered with beers and glasses and plates, house; and wash the piles and piles of dishes and pot, crocks and glasses. She'd cry those nights, and he would rage at her that she should be understanding. They were gaining position there. In fact, they weren't. Hoult simply liked to spend money, and pretend he was rich. That was always what it had been, but Mart bizarrely had never noticed it. She'd accept it meekly, and scrub the house and herself into an inch of raw.  
"Thank the Gods he left, little one, "she cooed to the belly bump. "He'd probably expect you to clean your own ass as you left the womb, that beast!"  
***  
Mart had been asleep when she heard a crash and shot from the sofa to look through the window. It was with great relief she recognized Aila's face. It was with great horror she saw her black eyes, as she looked around and rasped at the door. Mart almost screamed, clamping her hands over her mouth and ran to the cupboard. Just as she shut the door, Aila burst inside the house. But how?, she thought. I locked it, I made sure of it!  
Aila burst into the bedroom, and threw out the bed into the floor. How could the neighbors not hear? Aila came back to the hallway, and gave such a huge bang, that Mart was sure it had been the sofa. It was the only big thing there. The table of the kitchen got thrown and swept away.  
Aila stopped right in front of the cupboard.  
Mart could hear the droplets of water that the sink dripped, ring inside her head, pulsating at the rhythm of her heart.  
If it was minutes, hours, or seconds, Mart couldn't be entirely sure. But at long last, Aila moved and went back out of the house, slamming the door with such strength, the hinges crooked.  
It wasn't until daylight came, that Mart came out of the cupboard, her body stiff and sore, but she was alive. Utterly alive, too. She gave a huge breath and ran to Lady Ebony. What else could she do? Aila had not been herself, she was positive. The Lady could surely break whatever was going on.  
"Oh, she was herself alright," The Lady laughed, while eating fresh baked cookies dipped in warm milk. "Though it is funny, "she said, wrinkling her nose, "that you saw what was going to happen a day before it happened. Perhaps I've not looked properly at you, dear Martilia, and you possess some power."  
"Wait..." Mart said. "Saw? Do you mean...?"  
"Oh, yes, I do."  
"But that's impossible!" Mart shouted. "Aila wouldn-"  
"Of course she would child, I've told you everyone is jealous and angry at someone because they can have what we cannot." Lady Ebony passed her a cookie, which she ate quite greedily, staining her face with chocolate. "Though, I do suppose you don't quite understand. This is Algraid, though you seem unaware of all it's implications."  
Mart shook her head, fighting against all of it. "No, what does it matter that this is Algraid? It's a picturesque little town, it's cheap-"  
"It's cheap because of murder, which there's plenty here." The Lady sighed, rubbing the chocolate stains with a handkerchief. "I won't enter details, I can't as you know, but we do not walk alone. There is powers hidden, that once tapped will change you forever."  
"But, what about Aila?" Mart objected.  
"Listen, child!" The Lady shouted crossly. "I'm telling you, so listen. Sometimes the powers will take your age, or your eyes, or your sanity, or they'll take what you most wish, or what you most desire, just to be despicable. Like babies, like normalcy. It depends."  
"But, if they are after the power..." Mart said, confused.  
"But they aren't. Listen," Lady Ebony snapped, "it comes to those that least expect it. It changes their lives. Algraid calls to people. We aren't in any map. We don't exist, at least not as you think. You've been called here, perhaps with a purpose, perhaps it was Aila's desire. But you did, and you've come, and now you must stay. There is no leaving, not until you die."  
"Are you saying," Mart said, "that I'm a prisoner of this town?"  
"Such is the case, yes" The Lady nodded. "You could've left when I told you so, but now, it is far too late. The pieces are in their places, and now they must play. Whatever the outcome."  
Mart rubbed her pulsating forehead. "I'm confused."  
"Yes, I expect you to be. But don't fear, or more, fear for your life. Now, you must return and continue on."  
"Continue what?" Mart said, feeling tired and sleepy.  
"The land of the living, only they can change the past, the future and the present. It's all in their power. We'll meet again, when you must."  
***  
Mart woke up, mumbling Lady Ebony's name and feeling quite stupid. Who was Lady Ebony? Or Aila? What had happened?  
Her door rang and with a mighty effort, she rose from the sofa and opened the door.  
"Hey," the boy said, "nice to meet you, I'm the new neighbor from lot #50."  
"Ah," Mart exhaled, with a smile. "Yes, of course, how rude of me. Nice to meet you, I'm Mart, short for Martilia, but since it sounds very silly I prefer Mart."  
"I'm Jaz, " he said blushing, "it's short for Jasmin, but it's a girl's name. My mom wanted a girl."  
Mart laughed. "It's a good name," she said opening the door. "Do you want to come in and carry a basket full of vegetables? It's the custom around here, really."  
Jaz blushed. "Huh, if I'm not intruding on you and your husband. Sure."  
Mart giggled as she lumbered to the kitchen. "I live alone, Hoult has long since gone."  
He coughed nervously. "He...huh, died? My condo-"  
"Oh, not at all!" she said, putting her extra blueberries inside of a jar. "He left as in really left, not as in died. He's somewhere in the mainland, good riddance. Never mind that, is this enough or will your mother feel quite stuffy about so many blueberries?"  
"Oh..." Jaz exhaled, and scratched the tip of his nose. "I've come alone, to serve as the new electrician, the old one died. Josey, right?"  
Mart stared. "My apologies, it's just, you seem young. Or younger than you are, I guess. Yes...Jo-Josey...yes, he is dead...." Mart felt very confused, like there was a tickle inside her brain.  
"Yes, I've heard that a lot, that I have a baby face, " Jaz said, while blushing. "I'm twenty-three already, though, and I have a lot of experience with lights and mending."  
"Poor Josey," Mart said, not remembering who he was, almost knowing. How had he died? "You still look a teenager, I wish I did. I'm only twenty-five, you know, but I get taken for thirty, could you believe it?"  
He laughed. "There's no way a pretty girl like you could be taken for thirty." He blushed as he saw her staring.  
"I thank you, I suppose, for the compliment, though you still haven't answered me about the blueberries," Mart pointed out, and frowned at them. Were they suppose to have bloomed?  
"I really like blueberries, yes," Jaz said, and looked at her belly. "How many months?"  
"I'm pregnant of..." Mart said, looking at her swollen stomach, far bigger than she had remembered, "Eight months now, I guess. I'm sorry, you woke me so I'm still feeling out of it."  
It was with relief that Jaz left.  
She was feeling so very odd. Mart was positive things weren't quite...right. She couldn't remember exactly what wasn't either. Confound it all!, she thought. Let's return to the garden.  
As she climbed down the steps, to her vigorous, in full bloom vegetable garden and bushes, the most bizarre sensation came over her. The pink and white dogwoods, the purple durantas, the white deutzias, the blueberries bushes, the green bay, the purple beautyberry, the lilac bluebeard, the white and yellow butterfly bush, the white and yellow carpe myrtles, they were all, and so many more, overgrown, and so big, you could not see the street. And who was from the street, could not see the house. As she walked down the steps, and looked at the house, vertigo took her, and she saw as if from a funnel this house, Josey at it's roots, Aila at it's doors, while looking at the house to it's right, that was decidedly abandoned since long ago. That house, that had no furniture, and it's garden was completely, and utterly, shriveled. That house. She knew it. She'd lived on it, hadn't she? But how? This had been the house she had bought. Then where had Josey and Aila lived? Mart's head hurt, enough to make her cry. As she stroked her belly bump, she saw the rainbow bead bangle on her right wrist and thought of only one person, one person whose name sent shivers down her spine, yet comforted. Lady Ebony.  
Mart walked, slowly and steadily, for she could not run with such a huge belly. She passed by the electrician, the deserted florist, the barber, the hairdresser, the mini-market, and the electronics shop, and all the others, until she arrived at the decrepit building on the end of the shopping street. As she entered it, she felt a vague sense of cellophane over her head, her eyes, her fingers. And then it was gone.  
"Welcome, Martilia," Lady Ebony said, with a smile. "You've fared well."  
"In what, Lady?" she asked, confused.  
"In killing to survive, you've finally rid us of their perpetual hand on Algraid," she said, laughing. "We're finally free to go out, and enjoy our lives. I must thank you."  
"But how? I don't remember," Mart said.  
"Good, for you fought for months, though those did not pass in the real world," Lady Ebony said, sadly. "Through the intricacies of time. You've been killed millions time. Until, finally, in this one, you've survived and done the job. And from that, you've rid us from all the other versions of them. At long last, I'm allowed to die. Thank you."  
And Lady Ebony flaked from skin to bone in half a second, until she became the dust covering Mart, and the furniture, and the tarot cards.  
With a force she could not comprehend, Mart took the cards and sat down on the bench, feeling for all it's worth, that this was the right place for her. And she could see it. Her future. Jaz was on it, and her child named Ebon, stood with her wheat hair billowing underneath the sun, while they helped her move from Josey's and Alia's house to Jaz.  
It was happy. That was enough.  
End


End file.
